


Conflict of Interest

by rivendellrose



Category: Hellboy (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-07
Updated: 2012-10-07
Packaged: 2017-11-15 20:39:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/531450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivendellrose/pseuds/rivendellrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Websandwhiskers over on LJ asked to see "Halloween from the flip side, i.e. the Fey view of it. Bonus points for BPRD Agents viewing Halloween the way cops view New Year's Eve. Bonus Bonus points for Red and Liz's twins being involved somehow."  I managed to get most of this, I think, though it took a damned circuitous route to get there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conflict of Interest

"It’s about the upcoming... _holiday_." Manning spat the word like it tasted bad on his tongue, and shuffled the paperwork in front of him again. It seemed inclined to give no different answers to the last three times he’d rearranged them. 

"Halloween," Abe supplied.

"I know what it’s called," Manning grumbled.

Abe waited. 

"The brass is of the opinion - and I agree with them," Manning added quickly, in case a hidden recorder might doubt his loyalty to the chain of command, "that you should stay in this year."

"In," Abe repeated.

"As in off the street. Out of commission. Off... whatever happens."

Abe blinked. Whatever he might have expected Manning to be leading up to, this wasn’t it. "Traditionally, Halloween is one of our busier nights..."

"And a pain in the proverbial ass because we sometimes can’t tell our guys from the civilians in costume, I know. I do remember ‘89, I assure you. And ‘93, as well."

"It would be difficult to forget a lawsuit of that size," Abe agreed. "Not to mention the mess."

"The clean-up crews are still on my ass about the burned hair gumming up their equipment. No, I’d love to have you out there, Fish-stick, but the big boys in Washington are of the opinion..." Manning hesitated and flipped the corners of his papers again. Abe caught sight of a familiar name fluttering by, and before he could think of what a bad move it would be, his hand darted out and caught the pages so he could read the rest of the line. 

"’Because of the agent’s inconvenient relationship with a member of a foreign court within US borders, namely the supposed ‘Queen Nuala of Bethmoora’...’" Abe let the pages slip past his fingers, then looked up at Manning. "’Supposed’ queen?"

"Washington still hasn’t made a decision about whether they _can_ legally recognize the sovereignty of her court, let alone if they _want_ to," Manning informed him in the clipped tones of bureaucracy pushed too far. "It causes a lot of legal concerns, I’m told. Wheels within wheels. There’s the possibility of jurisdictional disputes, and--"

"Wait." Abe raised a finger for silence. "If they have not recognized her legitimacy, then how can my situation be a conflict of interest?"

"That’s exactly what they’re trying to figure out. It’s giving them all headaches, Fish-stick, and as thanks for that they’ve decided to give _me_ headaches."

"But Liz is still on maternity leave, and Red--"

"Will go out with Doctor Krauss and the other field agents. They’ll be fine. You... are off-duty for the night. Just... hang out, listen to some music or something. We should all be so lucky. I’ll let them know at the briefing this afternoon."

A night off. Music. No getting involved in whatever mess and disaster Halloween night would bring for the rest of the bureau. Under other circumstances, Abe might have been grateful for the reprieve - it had been weeks since he’d last had a full day and night to himself. As it was, however, knowing that his superiors didn’t trust him and that his friends would almost inevitably be going into a bad situation without him... 

"I’m not asking, Fish-stick."

The nickname rankled more than usual suddenly. Abe nodded sharply, turned, and walked out of the office, grateful for once that no one held the ‘special’ agents to the military protocols that demanded proper acknowledgment of orders or waiting for dismissal before leaving a room. It felt surprisingly good to let the door close behind him without another word and then to just keep right on walking, not to his rooms and his tank as he normally would for a few hours’ peace before the evening’s excitement, but instead grabbing a coat and hat out of the closet in the main foyer, and straight on into the night. Properly costumed to hide himself, there was no reason for the drivers who shuttled the bureau’s more normal employees to think twice when he asked to be driven to Brooklyn. If, thanks to Manning and the other bureaucrats above him, he wasn’t welcome with his friends, there was somewhere else where he’d been told he was _always_ welcome. 

 

* * *

He’d wanted to keep the reason for his unexpected freedom secret from Nuala, knowing the frustration and anger it would cause her on his behalf, but apparently he was not skilled enough at hiding his feelings from her. The moment he was escorted to her presence, she rose from her throne and pressed a slender hand to his cheek. "My love, why are you troubled?" she murmured. The memory floated to the surface, and she caught it easily as plucking a leaf from a stream. Her face darkened. 

"They’re worried..." Abe began.

"About our relationship, and my people." Nuala closed her eyes. "I’m sorry. I should have known this would cause you trouble in your world."

"It’s no trouble." 

He was still a terrible liar as well, Nuala’s eyes told him. She smiled sadly. "You’re worried for your friends, going out alone."

"They won’t be alone," he told her, but she caught the mental image of the ‘normal’ field agents, and he could feel her reaction to them - indistinguishable, immobile figures in matching black suits, utterly Human and utterly untouched by the wilder, weirder things in the world. Nothing worth fearing, nothing worth noticing.

"I would hardly consider them good companions," she said softly. "And neither, I think, do you and your friends."

"Some of them are... That is to say, they’re not all completely..." 

A pale finger stopped his lips. "At least I can thank your Doctor Manning for one thing - you are here with me tonight. We have not had enough time together in the past year."

"I’m sorry. With Liz and Red’s twins being born, and... I’ve been busy." 

Nuala’s pensive expression turned to joy at this news. "They are born, then?"

"A boy and a girl," Abe agreed. "Trevor and Katherine."

"Twins, a boy and a girl..." A flutter of something white and cold moved in her mind at this, but she folded it aside with a practiced gesture of thought. "I hope you will present my congratulations to them both? And gifts as well. I have them ready - I remembered you saying, last time we saw each other, that her time would be soon."

"That’s really not necessary," Abe protested, thinking of what Hellboy might say of a fairy gift given to his children. 

Embarrassingly, Nuala caught the thought before he could bury it, and laughed. "Abraham! I owe my life to your friends, I would never harm them in that way. Here." She gestured to a guard, who brought over a box carved of wood so dark it was nearly black and inlaid with green and white stones in the pattern of a tree. "Open it. I want you to see, and hear what they all are while I am with you, so you will know and can tell your friends, and they will be sure it is the truth."

"Nuala, that’s not--"

She shook her head. "I know Anung Un Rama trusts me well enough, but he also knows my kind and our history, and Elizabeth is the same. If you see in my mind, you can assure them what I say is the truth, and they will know it is safe. Now, open it."

"There are four gifts here," Nuala told him as he lifted the lid. She rested her hand on his forearm as she spoke, making the words seem more like an oath than a simple statement. "The first is for Elizabeth. Among my kind, we give a woman a rich gift at the birth of a child, because children are so rare among us, and precious beyond our measure." Abe lifted out a beautiful bracelet of fine silver filigree and shining black stones that seemed lit with a reddish glow from within. "It will stay cool no matter how her fire burns, and not even her greatest anger could melt it. Beneath it is my gift to Anung Un Rama. Tell him, please, that I give it as a pledge between us." 

Abe lifted the dark cloth that lay between the gifts, and found himself staring at a knife... no, a dagger, made of metal as dark and lustrous as oiled midnight. "What...?"

"It’s made of iron from a fallen star, and older than I am. Just to touch it burns the skin of my kind. My father took it as spoils of war from an ancient enemy in the oldest days when the world was young. Tell Anung Un Rama that I give to him as token of my friendship, my respect... and my trust."

All that she said was truthful - of that Abe was sure - but there was something else, too. "Nuala... what does this mean?"

The corners of her lips curved, oddly amused for such a serious moment. "My father was not always weak, Abraham, nor was my brother always as he became. Your friend is a great warrior. I understand that he will always do what he must to protect what is his, even at the cost of what is mine, and that I accept this... even though my duty lies here. I hope we may never be enemies." 

"That will never happen," Abe told her... but doubt pitted his stomach. Already so much had gone wrong between her people and his, and if what Manning had told him earlier was true... "We’ll keep it from happening." 

Nuala smiled fondly at him, and he felt embarrassed to realize that, thanks to their touch, she’d heard his doubts as clearly as the words he’d tried to cover them with. "As I said, I hope you are right. And if you are not, I hope you will remember what I have said... and not blame him. Come. There are two more gifts still to be seen. Wrap the dagger in this cloth, and I will show you the last." 

After he had done as she asked, the last two gifts lay uncovered at the bottom of the box - a pair of cloaks the color of shadow, soft as whispers. "I had these woven by my ladies specifically for your friends’ children," Nuala told him. "I know that Anung Un Rama disdains to hide himself, but we say that even the noblest warrior may sometimes wish to walk unseen... particularly children who may grow to resent looking different from those around them. These cloaks will not make them invisible precisely, but they will make the eyes of those who look at them... unwilling to see. They may still be heard, or hurt, though, so they must always take care. But if they wish, they may walk the streets wearing these clothes as easy in themselves as if they were cloaked in our very best glamours."

Abe fingered the soft fabric and wondered - perhaps just once, before the twins were old enough to use them, he might borrow one of the cloaks, walk out on the streets of Brooklyn or even Fairfield for a while, unnoticed and unconcerned...

Nuala touched his chin, tilting his face toward her. "I can give you that without a cloak, easily, if you would have it."

"If... Nuala, I’ve never been able to walk on the streets without wearing a hat, a false beard, and a coat with its collar tucked up around my face, and even then I have to walk quickly so no one asks questions. I’ve never... I had no idea... How?"

Nuala ducked her head, suddenly shy. "Glamour is easy for my people. It doesn’t work to hide from each other - I couldn’t have used it when my brother was looking for me, for example, but among Humans, I can hide my appearance as easily as breathing. To hide another as well is almost as easy. It would have to be a short visit - more than a few hours would be difficult to maintain, but I would be happy to do that for you. Is that what you would like to do tonight?"

"Tonight?" Abe stared at her. "But I thought... Don’t your people have celebrations tonight? I thought, that is, I had read, that the festival of Samhain..."

"Is ours, yes, of course. But it is a festival for late at night, and it is still not quite twilight. We could go above, walk the streets for a short while together, and still be back in plenty of time for the celebrations here in the court. I want to do this." She squeezed his hand lightly. "It’s rare that I get to give you a gift that you appreciate as much as I sense you want this."

Abe shook his head. "Time with you is always a gift, Nuala. The most wonderful gift I’ve ever been given."

She smiled up at him for a long moment, then stood on her toes and kissed him, so gently he almost thought he imagined it. "Come," she whispered as she stepped back, tugging his hand toward the court’s large doors. "Walk above with me. We have the whole night before us."

 

* * *

Just within the boundaries of the abandoned train station that sat on the exterior of the court, Nuala stopped Abe and murmured something - a song, almost - in Gaelige, then passed her hand over Abe’s face, her eyes fluttering closed as she did so. Abe waited, but felt nothing. Then she repeated the gesture on herself... and the strangest thing seemed to happen. It was almost like watching ink run from a wet page, except in reverse; or leaves changing color on a sped-up film recording, except that it happened at once so smoothly and so quickly that Abe seemed not to be quite aware of the change until it had already happened. Nuala’s skin-tone warmed and became that of a normal, if faintly pale, Human woman, and her hair and eyes darkened to a soft caramel-brown. Her clothes were not any longer the rich silks and brocades that she wore among her people, but a simple, long denim skirt and white blouse, with a camel-colored jacket. She looked in every way like a perfectly ordinary, albeit still very pretty, young Human woman. There were, he noticed with some shock, even a few freckles dusted across her nose and cheekbones.

"What about..." He trailed off, catching sight of his hand as he lifted it to question her. The blue mottled skin he’d seen every day for as long as he remembered was gone, replaced by a faintly tanned beige, perfect and Human down to the fine brown hair on the back of his hand.

"I told you it was a simple thing for me to do," Nuala told him, smiling. Strange, to see her smile, hear her voice, on the lips of a woman so different from her. And yet not so different, he realized. The general structure of her face and form were the same - still slim and delicate, though less slender than she truly was, and shorter as well, with a bit more curve to chest and hips... not that he was looking. If he could have blushed... He blinked rapidly, wondering if perhaps he _was_ blushing. He didn’t feel any different - no heat on his cheeks, as books described the feeling - but...?

"Don’t worry." Nuala squeezed his hand again. "Come. Let’s see what is happening on the street."

Outside, the clear, cold day was turning into a brisk evening but the sky was still blue enough to be startling against the red of turning leaves. Nuala, delighted, tugged him over to the first tree and caught a leaf as it fell, then let it go wheeling in the breeze. The sun, now low in the sky, painted the shadows of the leaves on her face. "It’s been so long," she murmured softly. "So long since I’ve been out in sunlight. Before, I was too afraid, and now... There’s so much to do."

"Are you sure you can spare this time? I didn’t mean to interfere with your schedule..."

Nuala shook her head. "No, you’re right to. I forget sometimes... I forget that I am a queen, not a prisoner. That there is a difference. And also that there is still beauty in the world up here, even if it is tamed and fenced and trammeled." She stroked the bark of the tree like a woman petting a beloved cat, and a rustling in the branches almost made Abe imagine that the tree responded to her touch. From the way she smiled, perhaps he wouldn’t have been so wrong to think it. They walked slowly along the road toward the city, just enjoying the sun and the wind, and if Nuala cringed a little whenever a car passed them, at least, Abe thought, it gave him an excuse to slip his arm lightly around her waist. She leaned against him, apparently grateful. Children ran by in brightly-colored costumes, their parents following dutifully behind, and they paused to watch a small horde of little trick-or-treaters descend on a shopkeeper, who passed out candy with a genial smile. As they moved on, they passed by the cheerily decorated plate glass window of the shop, and Abe did a double-take. There was Nuala in her Human guise, exactly as he saw her, but for a moment he was terrified to think that he couldn’t see himself. There was a Human man, about his height, wearing a similarly nondescript coat, but...

The pieces fell into place. The Human man _was_ him. Of course. Fascinated, Abe lifted his hand and watched the unfamiliar reflection mirror back his gesture. Nuala, watching him, smiled softly and touched his arm. 

"It’s strange. I’ve always wondered what I would look like... I mean, what I might have..." Abe trailed off. "Silly, I suppose. But... I almost wish--"

"Don’t," Nuala interrupted quickly. "Not tonight, most of all, don’t say that word." Through the touch of their hands he could feel her terror at that word, the fear that if he said something she wouldn’t be able to prevent it happening, not tonight, not while she was with him. And he understood, but...

"It would be so much easier," he said softly, looking at the unfamiliar face. Picturing a life that wouldn’t have to be lived apart, locked away, hidden from the world at large. When he was tired of the Bureau, frustrated with their regulations and with Manning’s petty tyranny, he could just turn away, go out in the world, find something else to do. And, whatever Nuala said, whatever she showed him of her feelings, surely she would prefer--

"I would never want that. This face--" She reached up and touched his cheek, and to his surprise he could feel the slight prickling of stubble on his cheeks as her hand brushed over it. "This face, to me, is like paint that lays over a thing I love by itself. I would have you as you are, Abraham."

"Even in your court? Even when it causes trouble for us? If I were Human--"

"You would be no more welcome among my people - probably less, given our recent history." She shook her head. "I love you as you are, Abraham. Remember - I am not Human either. This seeming is just a cloak I put on and off when I will. Would you want me to wear it always?"

"Of course not. It’s lovely, don’t misunderstand..." He reached out, and was momentarily fascinated to see his strange _flesh_ -colored hand touching her counterfeit face. "But it isn’t _you_." 

"Exactly as I feel about this new face of yours." Nuala cupped her hand over his, and showed him her confidence - her certainty that this glamour she’d woven for him meant no more to her than the cloaks she’d ordered made for the twins. Means to an end, that end being a moment of freedom, away from self, away from responsibilities and the worlds they both inhabited day to day. "I know that the wearing of masks is traditional for Humans on this day - going out in the world other than as they are, being what they are not. Now we have done that, and seen what they see, and we can go back, if you like, and celebrate the night as my people do?"

"What is it for your people?"

Nuala smiled. "Being what we _are_. Come."

 

* * *

Abe had spent little time in the court, but he was quite certain it wasn’t normally so full of restless energy and a feeling of something about to begin. As always the smell of old, dry leaves and earth permeated the court as they hurried down the steps, but over that he could smell... wood smoke? 

An immense fire burned in the middle of the court. 

Abe, more familiar with fire as the consequence of Liz’s temper than as a creature comfort, was struck with alarm. _They don’t even have fire extinguishers_... 

Nuala laughed, a light and warm sound that belied the fearsome crackling of the blaze. "It’s a bonfire, Abraham. Very much intentional. Don’t you see?"

And of course he did, now that she mentioned it. There were beings of all sorts milling around the flame, certainly, but they weren’t rushing to retrieve treasures or records, or trying to figure out how to put it out. They were laughing, just as Nuala had been, and some had even begun what he could only term a dance around the edges, though it followed no pattern he could recognize. Torches and candles lined the stone walls of the chamber, and reflected back the dancing light of the central fire, and there were other smells, too - the thick, faintly acrid smell of alcohol, and other sweet, heavy smells that he supposed were food of some kind. 

"When you said ‘being what we are’... Well, I was afraid..." Images rushed through his mind - stolen children and tormented mortals - shoemakers and woodsmen’s daughters, he supposed - all the things that stories whispered about the denizens of Faerie on this night of all nights. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, the images floating between them through their joined minds, he wished he could call them back. He wished she would laugh again, that her eyes would dance and smile at him, tease him for being so easily tricked by silly old stories. He wished all these things, and was disappointed, because Nuala lowered her eyes, and he could feel her thinking that it had not been so long as he might wish since these things happened regularly. They were only rare in the new age because the faerie folk were so few, and children were more quickly missed than they once were, and the consequences greater should their actions be noticed.

"The taking of Human children is against our laws, as it has been for many years. I have told my people that it will no longer be tolerated," she told him in soft, solemn, apologetic voice, and an awkward pall fell over them together. Abe thought of their conversation earlier in the night, and of the gift she’d given Hellboy, and shuddered. "It won’t happen again," Nuala insisted. 

Abe thought of Manning, too, and what he’d said about Washington and their uncertainty over Nuala’s court. He showed her those thoughts, and felt the shame and embarrassment that tugged at her heart when she saw them. "It had better not," he told her as gently as he could. "Now that they know of you..."

"I know. And it won’t." She took a deep breath. "I promise, Abraham. I swear to you that I will do whatever I can to prevent these crimes, and if it happens despite my efforts, I will deal with it by our harshest measures, until my people see that we cannot be that anymore."

A twinge at the back of her mind - something dark and quickly banished - told him there was more to this promise than words to comfort him, and that it worried her. "Nuala--"

"Peace, Abraham. It is only that a promise made tonight has more power than most - it is as good as a blood oath among my people." She straightened, lifting her jaw, and he was impressed all over again by her, the bearing and power that she kept so closely hidden most of the time. "It is right that it should be this way. I swore to you, and I meant it. All will be well, and if it is not then whoever makes it so will suffer greatly for the break."

Abe swallowed, and, releasing her hand, looked around for a good change of subject. Fortunately, there was obvious fodder in the growing crowd gathering on the other side of the room. The rollicking sea of sentience, from fluttering fairies to lumbering trolls, seethed around the fire, shouting and singing and chattering in unison. "What now?" Abe asked.

"We dance, if we like..." 

Abe flinched. "I’m... not sure that would be wise."

"...Or we watch the dancers," Nuala continued with a glinting smile, "and drink wine, and enjoy being together. And you could hold my hand, and remember with me."

"Remember? Remember what?"

She held out her hand, pale and almost luminous in the half-darkness and flickering of the firelight. "Better times," she told him as he reached out to her. "Times before we were hidden away and lost to the light and the stars and the sky. Long ago. Today we walked in the Human world. Tonight, walk with me in my memories, and see what we were at our height."

As soon as their hands touched, Abe was overwhelmed by the strength of the memory she showed him. It was built over many nights like this, many years, centuries even, but every time shared the same features - stars above, clouds rolling on wind that carried winter’s first chill, and a bonfire much like the one in front of them, but free and open, roaring on a hillside in some distant place under an open sky. Lights circled around the outside, glowing pale green and blue and yellow, and he knew as surely as she did that no outsider would pass them unless invited. The smells of woodsmoke and fallen leaves and wet grass hung on the air, and soil, rich and alive beneath their feet. In the memory, Nuala breathed it in, taking in the night, and then stepped with the lightness of the wind into the whirling circle. 

Abe had never danced, but he recognized the feeling this dance brought out in Nuala - it was the same freeing rush and lack of thought that he felt when he dove deep into clean water and swam until he felt he could just slip away, never return to the surface, and be happy forever in his proper element. Nuala felt the same way dancing. She didn’t think, didn’t doubt - she’d danced these steps all her life, felt the music of the flutes and harp and drums in her blood ever moment since she was born. She was happy. She was free. All around her lithe figures like herself moved with the music, and she was a part of them, and part, too, of the night. 

_It will never be like this again_ , Nuala thought. _It cannot. So much has changed._

In the distance of her memory, Abe saw endless forests - dark trees and hills and mountains as far as he could see, and only the stars and moon and fire for light. 

_You might make those things come again_ Abe suggested.

Closer, he saw a figure he recognized, and with a shock he realized that it was Nuada, smiling and laughing with the other dancers, and turning to catch his - no, to catch _Nuala’s_ eye, and raise his cup to her. His eyes caught the firelight, but there was nothing of the feral, vicious gleam Abe remembered from the short time he'd known Nuala's twin - only joy and pride. In the memory Nuala laughed, stretched out her hand to him, then whirled away with the other dancers. For an instant he saw an old man, too, crowned in leaves and berries and what looked like antlers, and he could feel the love Nuala felt for both of them... just as, in the present, the sorrow that thinking of them brought filled her. His suggestion felt, suddenly, very foolish.

 _No._ Nuala squeezed his hand, and then let go with a last, gentle caress. "Everything has changed. It's all right. But I thought you should know. We weren’t always as we are. We were great, once, and powerful, and loving. And free. And all those things, yes, I hope we may someday be again."

"Whatever I can do to help..."

"I know."


End file.
